


Somewhere in Oblivion (Sequel to Change of Destiny)

by FireflySummerwynd



Category: Poison (US Band), Richie Kotzen - Fandom, The Winery Dogs
Genre: F/M, Heavy Metal, Multi, Off-Grid, Polyamory, hard rock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29995857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflySummerwynd/pseuds/FireflySummerwynd
Summary: After nearly a decade in the Shadows so he can focus on his family–which's a lot bigger than he ever woulda imagined it'd be–Richie Kotzen finally decides that he's ready to come outta retirement. That leads him to question whether he wantsta release yet another solo album that he actually heads out on tour for, or if he wantsta be part of a full-fledged band like he was throughout the nineties.His answer comes in the form of a former band mate–bassist Billy Sheehan–showing up at his house one afternoon with a proposition he wouldn't have expected. Who knows what throwing three Mad Hatters into a studio together with prolly forty more musical Influences'll produce before it's all said and done? Only one way to find out, and that's to get cracking–if they can pull Richie's head outta the Oblivion it's been stuck in all these Years since moving to Santa Catalina Island, that is.
Relationships: Bobby Dall/Lyrica Kotzen-Dall, Richie Kotzen/Lyrica Kotzen-Dall
Kudos: 1





	1. One

_January, 2012_

_Two Harbors, California_

Distracted by a sudden commotion from downstairs, forty-one-Year-old Richie Kotzen’s brow furrowed as he moved to set his guitar on its stand so he could investigate. Based on what lil he could hear through the door of his home studio–which was the only part that _wasn’t_ soundproofed–it sounded like his oldest child was on a bit of a rampage again. He heaved a sigh as he pushed himself up from his chair, knowing that prolly meant that her lil sister–who was only eighteen months old–had prolly gotten in her makeup or something along those lines and made a mess again.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs where they opened into the foyer, he was easily able to make out what all the fuss was about. His oldest child–fourteen-Year-old August–had apparently left her iPod within reach of her baby sister again, and the toddler hadn’t been caught with it till it was too late. Now, she was railing about how it was broken, and therefore absolutely uselessta her since it was basically an expensive paperweight.

“I’ve toldja Time and Time again, August–put this kinda stuff up, if ya don’t want her getting a hold of it!”

The virtuoso shook his head as he listened to his shared wife handle the situation with all the poise and Calm she usually possessed–till someone royally pissed her off.

“Dad bought me that for my birthday last Year!” his older daughter all but whined.

“Yeah, and? We’ve both toldja not to leave stuff ya don’t want broken in Falcon’s _or_ Phoenix’s reach, if ya don’t want whatever it is getting broken,” Lyrica told her. “Now, quit your whining and belly-aching, girl–you’re not four anymore.”

“You’re so mean!” she screeched, emphasizing her words with a stomp of her foot.

“No, I’m giving ya a dose of Reality,” the woman who’d effectively been her mother for the last decade told her.

“Ya don’t understand how it feelsta have younger siblings never staying outta anything!” August accused her.

Richie bit back a groan as he continued listening, knowing that was the wrong thing to say to this particular woman.

“And you’ve never known as much about me as you’d like to think ya do either, August Eve,” she told her.

“Da fuq’s _that_ supposed to mean?” the teen snapped, and he’d no doubt that she was crossing her arms as she stared her stepmother down.

“Ya wanna know the Truth?” Lyrica countered, her temper clearly boiling now. “How ’bout that I know _exactly_ how ya feel, ’cuz I used to _be_ you, and technically still am.”

“Huh? I don’t get it,” she said, suddenly sounding confused.

The woman he loved enough to share with a former band mate let out a wry chuckle, the soft rustle he heard indicating that she was getting back to work on whatever she’d been doing previously. It’d taken him and said former band mate–forty-eight-Year-old Bobby Dall–a while to get her to open up, but they’d finally gotten her to. Now, they were the only two on the Planet aside from the family she’d left behind out East who knew this lil tidbit about her.

Mincing no words, as was her typical fashion–especially once she was pissed off–she made it quite clear that she’d a younger sibling of her own. That younger sibling was a brother who’d been born about a month and a-half after her seventh birthday, and it’d been great at first. But once he grew up enough to run away and back-talk her when she was left to babysit him, the novelty’d quickly worn off.

Shooting her older stepdaughter a glare, Lyrica made no bones about how much of her stuff that younger brother’d veritably Destroyed when they were younger. In fact, there’d been more than one occasion that she’d found one of her dolls with nail polish all over its face in a way that screamed he’d been the one to do it. Other Times, she’d find certain toys in his room when they shouldn’t have been, and the brat’d try to deny having stolen them. And no matter how many Times she’d seek assistance from her mother, that woman wouldn’t make the brat stay outta her room for shit.

“So, don’tcha _ever_ tell me I dunno how ya feel,” the still-relatively young woman snapped. “My brother’s part of the reason why I even Gypsy’d my way out here to California in the first place when I turned eighteen.”

“I–I–” August was clearly at a loss for words.

“I think ya owe Mama Lyrica an apology,” Richie finally spoke up as he stepped into the kitchen, Revealing that he’d been listening.

His daughter gasped as she whirled around to face him, his wife smirking behind her.

“And don’t tell me ya don’t, ’cuz I heard enough to know thatcha honestly deserve my belt against your ass,” he warned her.

“She honestly does, but I’d rather give her a hard Reality check, if possible,” Lyrica half-agreed.

“I know that, which’s why I’m giving her the chanceta right her wrong before I just unleash on her,” the virtuoso said. “Otherwise, I’ll figure out some other punishment without having to repeat any we’ve used in the Past.”

August audibly gulped before finally looking up at her. _“Sono spiacente, Mamma_ Lyrica.”

“I’ll accept your apology this Time, but I’d suggest _not_ repeating this mistake again, young lady,” she told her. “Now, a couple hours in your room to think about it before dinner oughta make the lesson stick well enough–otherwise, you’ll be ploughing the Garden on your own when it’s Time to replant it come _Ostara.”_

Clearly not wanting to get herself into even more trouble, the teen simply nodded and hauled ass toward the foyer.

“I hate it when she pulls this shit,” Richie sighed once she was outta earshot.

“We both knew it was coming one Day,” his shared wife chuckled. “It happens just about every Time there’s a step- involved somewhere.”

“Wouldn’t know since my parents’ve been together since before I was born,” he said.

“Trust me, I was once resentful of my own stepdad to a certain extent,” Lyrica told him. “Ask Bobby, and he’ll tell ya the same thing–he loved Charlie, but he also resented him a bit.”

“I think I’ll just take your word for it, rather than picking scabs, so to speak,” the virtuoso chuckled, leaning down to close the gap between them.

Knowing that was prolly the better way to go, if she were completely honest, she didn’t try to argue the point as she gladly Returned the kiss she was given. Raising one’s own child was a hard enough battle, but raising someone else’s just upped the ante, so to speak. However, it’d been a challenge she was willing to face head-on, or she wouldn’t have agreed to even dating him just over a decade ago.

Turning her attention elsewhere once they’d parted, she couldn’t help wondering how much progress he’d made after holing up in his studio a couple hours ago. In the last decade, he’d mostly stayed outta the limelight in favor of spending more Time with his family–which was a lot bigger than he’d have ever Dreamt that it’d be. Since semi-retiring in 2004, he’d released only three albums– _Get Up_ the Year he semi-retired, _Into the Black_ about two and a-half Years later, and his most recent release, _24 Hours_ the Year previous. He’d never lost his Creative itch, but he hadn’t been kidding about wanting more Time with his family all those Years ago.

But now, that Creative itch was starting to morph into the itch to hit the road on a full-blown tour again, which was something he hadn’t done since Mr. Big’s _Farewell Tour_ in 2002. No doubt part of that was seeing his aforementioned former band mate continuing to tour with his band, even after what woulda been a band-killing onstage fight in 2006. However, therein lay a problem that he hadn’t quite figured out a solution to just yet–did he wanna tour as a solo artist, or as part of another band again?

Richie heaved a sigh as he shoved his hair outta his face, those blue eyes she’d fallen in Love with before ever meeting him Darkening a bit. He loved the atmosphere of touring as part of a band like Poison and Mr. Big, but at the same Time, he also knew the benefits of touring as a solo artist. When he did the latter, he could write whatever he wanted without having to get input from the rest of a band. From there, he’d to just make sure whoever he _hired_ as a touring band knew their parts so they wouldn’t fuck up onstage. After all, he was a bit of an idiot savant, but he couldn’t play _all_ the parts he recorded–even drums–entirely on his own when he was on the road.

“I mean, there’s perksta both sides of the fence, so to speak,” he said. “Just like there’s gonna be stress, either way.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely true,” Lyrica agreed with a nod.

“I just dunno of anyone who might wanna join me in a full-fledged band,” the virtuoso continued. “Pretty much everyone I know is already doing their own things, or we don’t get along well enough to embark on such Insanity together.”

“Ya mean, like how Poison’d rather knock your Lights out as opposed to tour with ya again?”

Turning slightly, Richie couldn’t help a chuckle as he saw that his former band mate’d let himself in, which he was known for doing. “Yeah, pretty much, man.”

“I’m guessing I just walked in on ya trying to decide between going on tour as a band or a solo artist again,” the veteran bassist chuckled.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He nodded as he moved outta his way so he could give their shared wife a kiss.

“Well, I think the answer’s come to _you,_ kid,” Bobby told him as he straightened again.

“Whaddaya mean?” the virtuoso queried, cocking a brow curiously.

“Ah, just that I found a couple familiar-looking vagabonds outside when I walked up with Falcon,” he answered, a grin breaking out across his face.

Richie wasn’t quite sure he was following–till he heard a familiar chuckle as someone finally walked through the archway that led to his foyer.

“Long Time, no see!” none other than Billy Sheehan laughed as he grabbed him for a hug.

“Billy!” he chuckled, gladly Returning the hug. “What on Earth madeja come out here to no man’s Land?”

“Got a proposition for ya–and from the sounds of things, I couldn’t have better Timing with it,” the bassist of his second former band told him.

Settling on one of the bar stools at the rounded, bar-height portion of the island, he was quick to introduce the final man. Best known as the drummer of Dream Theatre, Mike Portnoy was prolly just as well-known in the Music industry as folks like Peter Criss, Pat Torpey, Rikki Rockett, and countless others. However, aside from Dream Theatre–which he’d left just over a Year ago–he’d been involved in a few other musical projects over the Years, just like he and Billy both were.

As it turned out, the two of them were wanting to throw together something that consisted of three members. The two of them’d bass, drums, and backing vocals covered between the two of them, so they’d no problems with that part. It was finding someone to fill the role of lead guitarist _and_ vocalist that was proving to be a bit harder, their most recent attempt being a failure.

Unable to help a grin, said older bassist admitted that the attempt with John Sykes–who was prolly best-known for his work with Whitesnake–had certainly been fun. But they just hadn’t been able to mesh their collective styles in a way that made any sense, as well as suited all three of them. They’d decided to part ways on an amicable note, rather than beating a dead Horseta the point that they couldn’t even be friends later on down the road. It was at that point that they’d gotten a suggestion from an unexpected source, who was one of the few to even know what they were shooting for–talk show host, Eddie Trunk.

“He heard what we were doing and said we oughta talk to you about it,” Billy chuckled.

“That so, huh?” the virtuoso queried, his expression that infamous combination of bored and annoyed that he was famous for.

“Hey, we both know ya can damn near play a guitar with your tongue _while_ you’re singing!” he laughed.

“Now, look–I’m talented, but I’m not _that_ talented!” Richie retorted, a smile finally starting to curve his lips.

“Don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Bobby chuckled. “Your style couldn’t really mesh with the rest of Poison’s, but you’ve a level of talent even _I’ll_ never hope to achieve.”

“That so, huh?” Mike asked with a chuckle of his own.

“Honestly, I’m not quite sure _how_ to describe his playing,” he admitted. “I mean, ya put a bass in his hands, and he damn near pops a string from playing it like a lead guitar half the Time.”

“Sounds about like Billy,” the drummer laughed.

“Yeah, ’cuz I’ve definitely been described as having a _lead bass_ playing style,” the older bassist agreed.

“I guess it just boils down to what exactly you’re trying to put together,” he told them.

“It’s kinda hard to describe beyond simply _classic rock,”_ Billy admitted.

“If ya can imagine Led Zeppelin, Cream, Jimi Hendrix, Grand Funk Railroad, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, the Black Crowes, Lenny Kravitz, and the like all thrown into a blender together…” Mike said, a thoughtful look contorting his features.

“Oh, now _that_ sounds like a helluva challenge!” the virtuoso laughed.

“And right up your alley, _l’amore,”_ Lyrica chuckled. “I’ve heardja listening to all those artists and then some, and there’s nothing ya like more than a challenge.”

“Wouldn’t have gotten, much less kept _you_ –even if I’ve to share ya like a child’s toy–if I _weren’t_ up for a good challenge,” he retorted with a grin. “So, hell–why not dive right in and see what we come up with?”

Naturally, the older bassist was ecstatic that he was at least willing to take a trial run with them and see what happened. They’d worked pretty well together during his few short Years as the lead guitarist of Mr. Big, and it felt like that’d been a Lifetime ago. If they proved to mesh together cohesively enough to pull this off, this could be the start of something awesome that could go on for Yearsta come.

After ensuring that their shared wife could handle cooking for a small Army–whether she’d the younger bassist’s help or not–Richie gestured for the other pair to follow him. He already had something that might give them a head-start, ’cuz he’d been kinda iffy about throwing it on a solo album. They might also have some input on some shit that could be Changed, even if it wound up on a solo album instead of any put out by the supergroup they wanted to form. Only letting them take a listen for themselves’d tell him one way or the other, which was why he led them up to his studio on the second floor.

In said room, the virtuoso settled in the chair he’d been in just a short while ago and grabbed his guitar off its stand. Billy settled in another chair to take a listen while the final man leaned against the wall between the main and closet doors, considering this’d originally been designed as a bedroom. With a deep breath, he ripped right into a riff that was every bit like any other he was known for. Roughly twenty seconds later, he muted his strings, but his still-tapping foot told them that there was more where that’d come from.

It took him another twenty seconds or so to start playing again, but what came outta his amp was definitely something they could work with. That made the older bassist he’d once worked with chuckle as he snatched up the bass sitting on its own stand, a move that woulda annoyed him, if it’d been anyone else. Once the instrument was settled on his thigh, he told him to take it from the top, ’cuz he’d a bit of a riff pop into mind that they could prolly add to what he’d played. Nodding, Richie was quick to count them in, and he couldn’t say that he was disappointed by what he came up with. He could only imagine what Mike’d come up with for drums, and that Thought brought a grin to his face as they played through the song he’d been working on.


	2. Two

“So, what on Earth did I hear aboutcha sharing your woman earlier?”

Richie cocked a brow as he looked up from making a quick Change to the lyrics he’d shown the other pair with him that he’d been writing for the song he’d played for them. Mike’s face was split by what said woman’d call a shit-eating grin as he lounged on the stool that belonged to the drum kit he’d taken over. While his sticks were clutched in one big fist, his arms were crossed over his chest, his back literally against the wall as he leaned back almost like he was in a recliner.

“I’d tread lightly, if I were you, Mikey,” Billy chuckled. “He might share her–and at his own choice–but he’s still a possessive ass over her when he feels like it.”

“Got that right,” he agreed, a smirk starting to curve his lips.

“Hey, not like I was Intent on making any moves on her,” the drummer laughed. “I’m just curious, ’cuz I’ve never met anyone else who was crazy enough to do such a thing.”

“Well, I kinda _have_ been called a Mad Hatter for Years,” Richie pointed out, that smirk finally turning into a full-on grin.

Even the bassist with more than thirty-five Years’ experience in the industry nodded his agreement.

“Long story short, Lyrica and I met a lil over a decade ago when she turned up to audition as a backing vocalist for Mr. Big’s _Farewell Tour,”_ the virtuoso explained. “She’ll be the first to admit that she’s happy with me, but she was also equally attracted to Bobby.”

“So, you’re seriously sharing her with a former band mate?” Mike queried, his brows rising in surprise.

Nodding, he admitted that it definitely wasn’t something for everyone, but after he’d gotten used to it, he found that it was actually a far more enjoyable practice than he’d have anticipated. He didn’t have to strive for some unattainable notion of perfection when it came to his Romantic Life–he could just be himself, no matter how annoying he got sometimes. The same was true for the bassist he shared his wife with, and had for going on eight Years now–Bobby didn’t have to worry about not fulfilling any given need of hers, ’cuz it was likely that he’d be able to fulfill it when said bassist couldn’t.

But Richie didn’t particularly care to discuss his personal Life beyond that with a man he’d heard of, but didn’t really know very well on a personal level. Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door before he’d to struggle to figure out how to End it without being rude. No doubt it was one of the kids let-ting him know that dinner was ready, and that he’d better come get it while it was hot.

“Mom told me to let y’all know dinner’s ready,” Triton said after being beckoned to enter.

“Then we’ll be hot on your heels, kiddo,” the virtuoso chuckled, playfully ruffling his hair.

“Ack, Dad!” he groaned as he swatted at his hand.

“Boy, I helped make that hair–and the head it grows outta,” Richie laughed, putting him in a head-lock to ruffle it again. “I’ll mess it up all I wanna!”

“I’d threaten to do the same thing to yours, butcha just don’t care when that happens!” the boy retorted as he wriggled outta his grip.

“Jeez, man–just how many clones ya got running around here?” Mike laughed as he laid his sticks down on the nearest snare.

“Ah, I wouldn’t exactly call him a clone–he only got my nose, after all,” the virtuoso chuckled. “But this is my son, Triton.”

“A pleasure to meetcha, kiddo,” he said, grinning as he held out a hand. “Just call me Mike.”

“Mom and Dad’ll bust my butt, if I don’t add _Mister_ to it,” Triton told him, even as he accepted the handshake with a stronger grip than he was expecting. “Mom quicker than Dad, that’s for sure.”

“And if I just ignore ya, if ya do?” the drummer chuckled, a hint of mischief glittering in his eyes.

He couldn’t help an uncertain look as he bit his lip and glanced at said dad.

“I’m not arguing it, son,” Richie laughed. “Take it up with Mom when we get downstairs.”

Nodding, the boy said he’d let said mom know they’d be down in a few minutes as he headed out the studio door. Almost as if it were an after-Thought, he said that he needed some help changing his guitar strings after dinner, which earned him a nod and a thumbs-up. He was almost as much of a prodigy as his father’d been at the same age, so he’d some damn good potential for when he was older.

After finishing up that Change he’d been working on when he’d knocked, the virtuoso pushed himself up from his chair so he could head downstairs. Mike and Billy proved to be hot on his heels, which allowed him to lock up his studio so the kids’d stay out unless they were supervised. Considering how much money was tied up in that one room, he definitely didn’t want anything getting broken, which was the only reason he did that. Once that was taken care of, he led the others back downstairs since the house could be a bit confusing to a newcomer.

In the kitchen, Richie headed over to the sink so he could wash up, the other pair still hot on his heels as they followed his lead. Bobby and Lyrica got the younger kids settled at the shorter side of the island since they seemed to like that better, the older kids settling at that rounded portion. The only child to join them at the table was baby Phoenix, and that was just ’cuz she wouldn’t eat without sitting in his lap most of the Time.

With everybody–even Bobby’s now-grown son, Zak–settled so they could all dig in, he wasn’t surprised that the young woman was curious as to how they were getting along so far. Billy chuckled as he wiped his mouth, quick to say that he thought there was potential, but a single jam session wasn’t really gonna tell them a whole lot. That garnered him a nod as she agreed that while he and her younger husband might know each other pretty well, the same couldn’t be said about the drummer.

“He’ll deny it ten waysta Sun’s Day, but Richie can be a bit of a Control-freak when he feels like it,” she laughed.

“I don’t think there’s been a band member alive who isn’t from Time to Time,” the older bassist chuckled.

“I give him five minutes into the next session before he’s stealing Mike’s sticks and running him out from behind the kit,” Lyrica predicted with a grin.

“Oh, sure–just talk about me like I’m not even here,” the virtuoso told her, unable to help a grin of his own.

“Ya get lost in your own lil World too much for your own good like I do,” the young woman retorted. “Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if you’re _truly_ present or not.”

“I’d call ya something not-too-nice, but not with a punk who’s learning how to talk in my lap,” Richie said.

“Good boy, ’cuz I’d just retaliate by proving how much of one I am when I went back to Bobby’s with him, even though it’s _your_ Night with me,” she warned him, her tone good-Natured.

“So, _that’s_ how ya keep him from losing his mind, even though he’s to share ya,” Mike mused, glancing between them and the younger bassist.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Bobby nodded as he reached for his drink. “It took a while to find a perfect Balance, and that Balance always gets thrown off when I hit the road, but we eventually find our rhythm again.”

“Besides, it’s better for us to swap off with who’s jealous from Time to Time than to break up due to cheating,” he agreed.

“Hey, you’re both better men than I am,” the drummer laughed. “’Cuz there’s no way I’d be willing to share my woman, especially not with a former band mate.”

“It’s kinda like being in a band, honestly,” the virtuoso mused. “We share her with each other like band mates share Creative rights and Responsibilities, if that makes any sense.”

“Uh, kinda,” he said, his brow furrowing. “I’d have to sit and think about it before I can really agree or disagree.”

Chuckling as he wiped his younger daughter’s mouth, Richie admitted that he didn’t blame him for being a lil unsure about how much sense that explanation did or didn’t make. The only other way he could put it was the phrasing he’d used earlier–that they shared her like she was a child’s toy or something. He refused to go any more in-depth than that with the kids around, simply ’cuz they didn’t need to know about the inner workings of their Romantic triangle.

Not long afterward, the oldest kids were teaming up to clean up the mess everybody’d made, which was typical. Whether they’d guests or not didn’t mean shit–Lyrica’s rule’d always been that whoever cooked didn’t have to clean up, too. Only having to deal with Phoenix and the rest of her bedtime routine got the virtuoso outta having to help them, or he’d have been up to his elbows in suds.

After all the dishes’d been done, leftovers put away so they wouldn’t spoil, and the youngest kids put to bed, the adults congregated in the living room. Zoe and August choseta head back to Bobby’s house so they could hang out–and no doubt cause trouble for the poor guy to have to deal with when he got back home. Outta all their collective kids, Zak was the only one to join them since he was the only one interested in what they were Intent on talking about. Then again, he was looking into putting together a band of his own, so he almost always turned to his dad _and_ stepdad for advice on that.

“So, what’d I hear about a jam session before dinner?” the youngest man queried curiously once they were all settled.

“Been looking into putting together a trio of idiot savants,” Billy laughed. “Tried working with John Sykes of Whitesnake, and it just wasn’t coming together.”

“Been there, done that with a few guys before,” he chuckled. “Never the fun part unless ya count the in-fighting.”

“Oh, don’t even get us started on that, son,” the younger bassist warned him with a grin. “’Cuz I’m sure all of us but Lyrica get _that_ all too well.”

“As many different bands as I’ve been in over the Years, I oughta,” his older equivalent laughed.

“Same here, man,” Mike agreed. “Dream Theatre was my longest-running stint, but I’ve been involved in other projects over the last twenty-five Years or so.”

“Can’t say I haven’t been there before, too,” Richie admitted with a grin. “I mean, all ya gotta do is look through the credits on three different albums, and you’ll see my name.”

“That one Poison album, and one or two with Mr. Big, right?” the drummer asked.

“Yeah, those’d be the ones,” he answered, nodding. “Prolly did more in-fighting on that lone album with Poison than I ever did on the two with Mr. Big, though.”

“Well, that’s ’cuz Bret’s a bigger head than all his band mates put together,” the older bassist veritably cackled.

“I’ma pretend I didn’t hear that, even though I’ll be the first to agree with ya,” Bobby chuckled.

“Anywhore, to answer your question, kiddo…” Mike turned his attention back to Zak. “Eddie Trunk’s one of the few to know what Billy and I were up to. When shit didn’t work out with John, he suggested coming to Richie to see if he’d be interested.”

“Partly ’cuz I’ve worked with him in the Past, partly ’cuz he knows what an idiot savant this kid is,” Billy explained. “I mean, I’m pretty sure the only things he _can’t_ play are instruments found in a high school marching band, to go with the shorter route.”

“But I’ve that part covered, so he doesn’t really need to,” Lyrica laughed from where she sat between her men.

“That so?” he queried, looking surprised.

“She already knew how to play flute and picc when we met,” Richie told him. “When she said something about wanting to figure out clarinet–well, I figured I’d buy her a cheap one to start out with, and it wound up snowballing from there.”

“Now, she can play damn near everything except percussion and brass,” the younger bassist said, his grin one of Pride. “And don’t even get me started on what a Siren she is when she getsta singing.”

Both their guests were more than a lil intrigued, but they certainly weren’t expecting both her husbandsta swear she could sing a boner into even a gay man’s britches, if she wanted to. The virtuoso swore by her voice being so versatile, she actually put _him_ to shame–and that was a hard thing to manage, as talented as he was. Course, it wasn’t every Day that a woman could sound like Bret one minute, then imitate himself so that one couldn’t tell the difference, if they were listening to her with their eyes closed.

The young woman couldn’t help a blush as Bobby swore that was actually why he’d talked her into filling in for Bret a few Times when they were on tour. Even though she refused to actually hit the stage with him and the other two blondes, she could cover his six so well, the crowd couldn’t tell the difference. It’d saved their asses on a couple different tours in the last few Years, ’cuz it saved them from having to use pre-recorded tapes.

Richie admitted that he’d even gotten her help on a few of his solo works over the last decade, ’cuz they weren’t kidding when they said she was talented. If he ever got stuck with how a riff oughta flow, she’d snag one of his spare guitars and run through what he showed her. Should something pop into mind that she thought would work, she’d just run with it–and usually damn near shock skid marks into his britches. And that wasn’t including when he needed some backing vocals done, but whoever he’d been working with on that part just couldn’t achieve the Sound he was shooting for. In fact, it was just as common that she’d throw him outta his own recording booth and lay down lead vocals for him.

Billy and Mike were both surprised to hear that, much to the blushing woman’s chagrin as she gently elbowed her younger husband. Still, he shot her a grin as he pushed himself up long enough to run to their bedroom for something, his grin never once fading. Upon his Return, he reclaimed his seat and settled the same acoustic he’d once used to write _Twist of Fate_ on his thigh. Even though he knew it was gonna earn him some kinda _punishment_ –likely a round of orgasm denial the next Time they went at it–he was Intent on putting her on the spot for them.

“Even _before_ we made those Changes upstairs, I haven’t been able to fit lyricsta Music in a rhythm that actually flows worth a shit,” the virtuoso admitted.

“And it’s been driving ya crazy, huh?” Billy queried on a chuckle.

“As nuts as not being able to show ya an edit to that Mr. Big song _Shine_ does,” Richie answered.

“We’ll have to run through that sometime, then,” the older bassist mused. “I’m curious as to whatcha got up your sleeves right now.”

Turning to his right, he looked at his shared wife. “Let’s see if ya can put me to shame like ya normally do when I getcha to help me out–or don’t, in some cases.”

“You’re _soooo_ getting denied for this later,” Lyrica grumbled as she took his notebook from him, but her grin belied any true malice.

“I kinda figured,” he laughed. “Good thing I’m in a bit of a masochistic mood tonight, huh?”

“Just shut up and play, ya dork,” the young woman told him.

“All right, all right,” Richie said, striking his first chord. At the same point where he’d stopped playing earlier, he managed to gently step on her foot as a hint at the same Time he essentially swapped to the bass riff they’d come up with.

_“Somebody planted the seed of Love, but the vines’re killin’ me… Make ya feel so good to know, but it’s bad, bad, bad…”_ she sang, never once missing a beat. _“I guess by now, I should know the score… It’s like somebody put some Voodoo on me, and I don’t want it in my head_ – _I can’t take it no more!”_

“Hot damn, she’s good,” Mike breathed, his eyes widening as they listened.

_“I feel like a wanted man_ – _I’m not a criminal! You’ve got me in your hands_ – _and I got nothin’ at all! Ya got me believin’ you’re someone I’m needin’_ – _but I’ma brick in your wall, and I’m in your hands! And I’m runnin’_ – _ya got me runnin’ like a criminal…”_

Even Bobby couldn’t deny that she was doing amazingly well for something she’d prolly never heard even a lead riff for at this point. Then again, that was one of the amazing things about his shared wife–when they said she was damned talented, they weren’t fuckin’ around. She might still need some work with her guitar and bass skill–especially if she wanted to be on par with the virtuoso–but she’d a way with songs he was sure even the older bassist didn’t.

_“I’m on the streets in the dead of Night, and wakin’ up in the Woods… I’m feelin’ dirty inside my Soul_ – _I need somebody who can help me come clean!”_ Lyrica tapped her foot in Time with what she was sure the bass riff’d be, now that her younger husband had Returned to his lead riff. _“I’m at the border down by Mexico_ – _I don’t know which way I should turn to next… Should I give it up, should I take it all the way_ – _all the way down, down, down, down?”_

Grinning as they ran through the chorus again, Richie couldn’t help wanting to lean over and nuzzle her temple as he continued playing. Just like he’d suspected, his shared wife’d come up with a rhythm for the lyrics when he’d struggled to the point of giving himself one migraine after another. Zak jumping in to sing backing with her so she’d feel a bit more comfortable also wasn’t the slightest bit of a surpriseta him, ’cuz the kid usually did that when he was around. But he was still expecting the smack to the chest that he got when he finally muted his strings, knowing he was already pushing it, as it was.

Even the younger bassist erupted into a short round of applause for her as he set his guitar aside for the moment. But aside from putting her on the spot so she’d prove what he was telling Billy and Mike, he’d inadvertently gotten her help once again. Now, he actually had a rhythm he could work with, if and when he decided to record vocals for this particular song.

“Damn, girl–he wasn’t fuckin’ around!” the drummer laughed.

“If I hadn’t seen that it was _you_ singing, I’d have sworn it was _him!”_ the older bassist said.

“Toldja she could sound identical to me when she felt like it,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders so he could pull her against his side.

“You’re _definitely_ getting denied at least once, maybe even twice,” Lyrica grumbled, glaring at him outta the corner of her eye.

“I _soooo_ wouldn’t wanna be you tonight, kid,” Bobby chuckled.

“It’s gonna hurt like a bitch at first, but it’ll be worth it in the End,” the virtuoso retorted with a grin. “Not even booze knocks me on my ass _like that.”_

“I get the feeling I need to vacate to Dad’s house,” his older stepson said.

“Just pray ya don’t even wind up with a woman who knows orgasm denial, kiddo,” Richie laughed. “’Cuz ten Years of _that_ from Time to Time, and you’d be a lil crazy, too.”

“You’re up to twice, for sure,” the young woman warned him, her grin starting to look a lil sadistic.

“That’s if I letcha, hon,” he told her, that grin never fading. “’Cuz I know your rules of play all too well after all these Years.”

“Just remember that I know where ya sleep–even when ya chooseta sleep outside,” Lyrica laughed. “You’ll eventually come back in for something softer, and we both know how good I am at biding my Time.”

“I’m almost scared to say that it sounds like he’s as whipped as it gets,” Mike admitted.

“Nah, not whipped–more like pleasantly tortured,” the virtuoso corrected him.

“Do I need to go get Triton and Phoenix so they can be taken back to Dad’s with us?” Zak queried with a laugh.

_“Hmm,_ might not be a bad idea,” Richie snickered. “They might wind up scarred for Life, ’cuz I’m not sure that soundproofing _and_ a gag’s gonna shut me up tonight.”

Unable to avoid erupting into laughter of their own, Billy and the drummer both agreeing that it was prolly best they head back to their hotel in Avalon. Neither of them wanted to know what went on within the walls of his house after the kids were abed any more than the younger bassist did. They could always come back sometime the next Day so they could jam some more–provided that he was in any headspaceta do so, that is.

Bobby couldn’t help a chuckle as he and his older son escorted the pair out after nabbing the youngest kids from their bedrooms. The last thing they heard was a pleasured cry that was a bit too muffled to’ve come from the living room, but he knew the house’s layout well after so many Years. No doubt the amorous couple’d retreated to their bedroom, but they could get decently loud when they felt like it. And Gods only knew that the more their shared wife tormented him tonight, the louder the virtuoso was gonna get till he screamed himself Silent before it was all over.


	3. Three

The next Morn, Lyrica found herself awake before either of her husbands, which was a bit of a surprise since they were the ones who actually _liked_ getting up early. Ever since she’d moved from her Cave into the house she shared with Richie, she’d stopped getting up with the Sun, mostly ’cuz of Triton having been born at practically same Time. She’d always been more of a Night Owl than an early Bird, though, so she’d figured that shift’d happen sooner or later.

But considering how she’d put him through the wringer after they’d gone to bed, she choseta leave that aforementioned younger husband abed when she got up. It wasn’t every Day that he slept so good, he’d actually roll onto his front since he preferred sleeping on his back or side. And it damn sure wasn’t very often that he’d drool on his pillow once he fell asleep, which made him seem more boyish than normal to her.

In the kitchen, the young woman finally let out a yawn as she moved toward the back hall that housed the pantry. On the counter across from the pantry door–which sported its own mini sink–they’d made the home of their coffee pot, and later their Keurig. Neither of them could think of any other place that wouldn’t take up valuable real estate in the actual kitchen, especially once lil Falcon was in the making. After all, they’d everything from a breast pump to tons of baby bottles that needed to live on the countersta either side of the big sink. When Phoenix was born, that pattern started all over again, and they still hadn’t wanted to take up any Space that’d be essentially for meal prep or the consumption of one.

As she was stirring the customary half-and-half into her coffee, Lyrica heard a knock at the front door since the house was as Silent as a tomb. Peeking around the corner and down the hall that ran between the pantry and laundry room, she was easily able to make out two bodies on the other side of her from door. She couldn’t tell who they were from this distance, mostly ’cuz she was still half-asleep, but she was pretty sure she knew who it was. Gods only knew that Billy and Mike’d said something about coming back today before they left, and she coulda sworn she was seeing blonde and brunette hair.

“Well, somebody looks like they slept good!” said blonde laughed after she meandered over to answer the door, her mug in hand.

“Kinda hard _not_ to after the way I put Richie through the wringer last Night,” she chuckled, letting him give her a quick hug.

“Ah, fuck–are we even gonna be able to get him conscious?” Mike queried, unable to help a laugh of his own.

“I’d planned on giving him till ten to bestir himself,” the young woman answered. “If he ain’t quit drooling on his pillow by then, I’ma have to go make him get up before he turns his face into a prune.”

“Damn, girl!” he laughed as she closed the door behind them. “Ya really did a number on him, didn’tcha?”

“Ain’t the first Time,” Lyrica snickered. “There’s been quite a few Times that he and Bobby’ve both been denied, then hit with _Sex magick_ on top of it.”

“Okay, I’m kinda scared to ask whatcha mean by that,” the blonde admitted warily.

“Denied, as in _orgasm denial,”_ she explained, settling onto the couch for now. “Deny either gender at least once, and it makes the orgasm that much stronger once they’re finally allowed to come.”

“What about that _Sex magick_ stuff ya just mentioned?” Billy asked, cocking a brow curiously.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like–a type of magick that feeds off the act in its name,” the young woman chuckled.

Even the brunette who’d settled in one of the arm chairsta her right was enthralled as she explained that she was a Lifelong Witch, and neither of her husbands’d dared try to convert her. But they were both equally enthralled as she further explained that _Sex magick_ allowed one to literally cast spells with the Energy of their orgasm. It was pretty much the only form of magick she utilized, if one didn’t count something like blowing out Candles on a birthday cake, but it could pack quite the punch.

Lyrica grinned as she told them to imagine an Energetic orgasm building at the same Time as the physical one they were used to. When they reached their peak physically, they’d also reach an Energetic peak, which’d explode at the same Time. Due to how hard it could hit a recipient and the Power it tapped into in the first place, that was why she didn’t hit even Bobby with it as often as it might seem.

As both guys were contemplating that, she heard a door open before it closed almost too quietly to hear, which was followed by a soft groan. Turning to look over her shoulder, she wasn’t surprised to see a seriously-disheveled Richie appear in the archway that led to the powder room and their bedroom door. His hair looked like he’d stuck a wet finger in a Light socket and given himself quite the shock, which only added to why he was oft referred to as a _Mad Hatter_. But his eyes were glazed over more than they normally were for having just woken up, which she wasn’t the slightest bit surprised by.

_“Buongiorno, l’amore,”_ the young woman chuckled as he flopped down beside her and fell over sideways so his head was in her lap.

_“Mmm, Buenos Días, cariño,”_ he veritably hummed, sighing as she started finger-combing his hair.

“Jeez, don’t tell me ya rebooted his brain so that he can’t speak English anymore,” Billy laughed, making him realize they weren’t alone.

“I can still speak English,” the virtuoso chuckled. “Just don’t wanna right now.”

“Still not awake enough, huh?” his shared wife queried on a chuckle.

“No, but don’t even wanna move to get coffee after last Night,” Richie groaned. “Head feels like it’s stuffed with Cotton, and the rest of me feels like Jell-O.”

“Then move your head so I can get up, and I’ll get your coffee for ya,” she told him.

The virtuoso actually pouted adorably as he sat up, but she knew exactly what he wanted and met him halfway for a quick kiss. “Behave yourself, or ya won’t be having fun the next Time I deny ya.”

“Still too sleepy-fied to worry about misbehaving–yet,” he assured her with a chuckle.

Laughing as she headed off to get his coffee started for him, then rinse her own mug out while it was actually brewing, Lyrica warned him that he wouldn’t misbehave at all, if he was smart. She’d woken up in her best possible mood, considering the Night previous once their house cleared out, and she’d prefer to ride out that Natural high on her own. Having it brought to a screeching halt ’cuz he or anyone else did something to piss her off _wasn’t_ what she wanted since that’d just serve to make her meaner than normal.

Richie chuckled as he pushed himself upright, swearing that he wasn’t gonna do any such thing since he much preferred her in a good mood. Considering why he was pretty sure the others’d shown up again as promised, he _definitely_ wanted her to stay in a good mood. He knew that Billy could prolly handle her as well as he could, but he wasn’t sure about Mike since they’d never met before yesterday.

Gladly taking his mug once she brought it over to him, he was quick to pull her down into his lap so her hips were nestled between his thighs. The young woman didn’t try to argue with him as she settled so they were both comfortable, which included one of his arms wrapped around her waist. It was more common than it wasn’t for her to wind up like this, regardless of which husband she happened to be sitting with at any given moment. Course, if it kept him in a good mood while he was waking up enough to actually function, she was more than willing to sit however he wanted her to.

“So, what on Earth’re ya calling that song thatcha showed us yesterday?” Billy queried, a curious look on his face.

“Not quite sure yet,” the virtuoso answered after swallowing the sip he’d just taken. “I’m thinking _Criminal,_ considering how many Times that word’s repeated throughout the song.”

“That actually has a pretty good ring to it, based on what I heard yesterday,” he admitted with a nod.

“What can I say?” Richie chuckled, raising his mug for another sip. “Being with Lyrica’s always made me feel a bit like a criminal, and Gods know the decade or so _before_ she came along did.”

“What exactly happened with all that?” Mike asked. “’Cuz I know what the media says, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was true.”

“Long story short, Rikki Rockett and his ex- _fiancé_ were having trouble in Paradise, so to speak,” he explained. “She swore they were split up, he swore they were still together, and looking back on it–well, I’m not sure which one of them I shoulda believed back then.”

“Sounds like enough to confuse just about _any_ guy,” his former band mate mused.

“Yeah, pretty much,” the virtuoso agreed. “One thing led to another, and eventually, it all blew up in my face and got me fired from Poison.”

“And yet, now ya share your wife with a different member of Poison,” both guys chuckled.

“It’s different, though, since we all know about and agreed to it,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Billy agreed, nodding solemnly.

“But I’ve always kinda felt like a criminal with Lyrica, mostly ’cuz of how our relationship started out,” Richie continued. “I mean, I wouldn’t tell any of Poison _or_ Mr. Big exactly where I was going every Time I left the mainland to head out here.”

“Yeah, the best you’d tell us was thatcha were heading to Catalina,” the bassist agreed.

“’Cuz she didn’t want anyone else knowing where she was living,” he told him. “So, rather than going against her Wishes, I toldja as much as I could without completely giving it away.”

“And ever since ya started sharing her with Bobby, you’ve felt even more like a criminal, huh?” Billy queried with a grin.

“Well, it’s not like it’s every Day thatcha meet somebody who’s actually willing to do such a thing!” the virtuoso answered with another laugh.

Even Lyrica couldn’t help a laugh when he made that point, ’cuz her younger husband was absolutely right about that. It was just human Nature to be jealous and protective when it came to one’s spouse–or really, anyone else who fell under the umbrella term of _significant other_. Most folks didn’t wanna share, ’cuz it was simply instinct to keep one’s mate to oneself due to reproductive reasons. However, there were obviously a select few who’d the capability of sharing a mate like that, even if it wasn’t necessarily something they’d have thought they could do in their Youth.

That was the very reason that Richie’d been hit by a Lightning bolt of Inspiration a couple Years after what was supposed to be Mr. Big’s _Farewell Tour_. He’d written the Beginning of their their hit song _Shine_ while he was still with his ex-wife, then wound up finishing it with producer Richie Zito. At the Time it’d been recorded and added to the band’s 2001 album _Actual Size,_ he’d considered it a finished product and left it at that. But ever since meeting the woman he’d come to willingly share, the song’d taken on a new meaning to him. Therefore, there was a short lil lick that he felt _had_ to be added for him to consider it a finished product once again, but he hadn’t wanted to re-record it without his former band.

Naturally, that made Billy curious about what he was getting at since he remembered that song all too well and still loved it, even a lil over a decade later. Unable to help a chuckle, the virtuoso pushed himself up so he could grab his acoustic guitar from his bedroom, more than willing to show him. In fact, he was more than a lil excited to do just that, considering how well they’d always worked together during his short Years in Mr. Big.

After settling on the couch again, he quickly retuned his guitar so the song’d actually sound right once he started playing it. Once it was perfectly in tune, he didn’t even wait for anyone to count him in before he just ripped into the intro. The bassist clearly remembered it, judging by how he started tapping his right hand in what _he_ recognized as the bass riff. Or rather, what’d be the bass if, if he actually had a bass in his hands and had been playing along with him as he worked his way through the verses and chorus.

_“So many Shadows that I walk with_ – _I get lost in the Dark,”_ the virtuoso sang almost immediately after the second repetition of the chorus. _“So many voices that I talk to, but now you’re the one that I really depend on right now…”_

“Damn, man,” Mike chuckled as he muted his strings.

“That was actually pretty good,” the bassist said. “I’m definitely digging it.”

“That’s basically referencing my relationship with Lyrica,” Richie told them as he set his guitar aside.

“That so?” the drummer queried, cocking a brow curiously.

“Well, I don’t think I need to explain how Dark and sordid the Music industry can be to ya,” he said. “You’ve been in it long enough to’ve found out for yourself by now.”

Even Billy nodded his agreement to that statement.

“The easiest way I can think of to put it–Lyrica’s always been my Lighthouse that Guides me back to Shore through the Storm, so to speak,” the virtuoso explained. “She’s the one I seem to talk to most besides Bobby and all the kids, and hers is the opinion that matters most to be aside from my own.”

“Ya know, that actually makes sense,” the drummer mused as he looked between them. “I mean, I don’t even have to know the two of ya very well, and I can already see it.”

“Wait till ya get to know them better,” his former band mate chuckled. “The few Years that I knew this kid before they met, he was your classic rock ‘n’ roll wild child, even if he didn’t show it publicly.”

“Drinking, did my fair share of experimenting with drugs in my youngest Years, sleeping around–ya name it, and I’ve prolly done it,” Richie laughed. “But once I met Lyrica, that was it–no one else’s caught my attention like that, and I don’t see that ever Changing.”

“Can’t quite say that about her, though,” Mike snorted, a grin splitting his face.

“Not quite since _two_ guys caught my attention like that,” the young woman agreed with a grin of her own. “But aside from those two–nope, not interested.”

“But how sure can we _really_ be about that?” the drummer asked, still grinning.

“If I were gonna go after anyone else, the first prolly woulda been Rikki,” Lyrica admitted. “After that, it prolly woulda been Eric.”

“You’re shitting me!” Billy cackled as he slapped his knee.

Shaking her head, she admitted that that was going purely on superficial shit, like the physical traits that she found most attractive. Aside from her older husband, Mr. Big’s front man was the only other guy with eyes as Dark as hers that she’d ever found attractive since she normally gravitated toward blue eyes. Rikki was the only other one outta Poison that she’d ever found attractive, but much like Eric, she couldn’t necessarily say he’d the Power to make her panties wet without even a full Thought behind it.

Richie couldn’t help a snicker as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side so that her head rested on his shoulder. It was that very reason why that potential bridge for _Shine_ had even come to mind after they’d met and gotten to know each other. She’d undoubtedly put him on a leash, but at the same Time, she turned him looseta fly as high as he wanted to. He and Bobby did the same thing for her in a way, so everything ultimately balanced out when it was all said and done. But that was exactly why their relationship worked out so well, no matter how jealous they might get from Time to Time.

With his brain more in gear than it’d been when he first walked outta his bedroom, though, the virtuoso said that it was prolly best they head upstairsta his studio. He’d no idea if or when the kids were gonna come back since there were occasional Days that they’d stay at one dad’s house or the other. Then again, there were Days that they’d run back and forth between the two houses till they were finally tucked into bed.

Nodding their agreement, his former band mate and Mike both pushed themselves up so they could follow him upstairs. Both were well aware that if this was one of the Days that the kids were running back and forth between here and Bobby’s house, they’d never focus on anything without locking themselves away. If they were gonna try their hand at forming a supergroup together, they’d to be able to focus so they could concentrate. Luckily, the lone woman knew how this process worked well enough, considering how many Years she’d been with at least her younger husband. To that End, she simply dragged him back long enough for a quick kiss, then turned him looseta go have fun turning his brain into even more mush than it already was.


End file.
